Outlandish Poems From An Academic

June 28, 1998|By JAY PAUL Book Reviewer

On the cover of this selection of poems, George Garrett sits smiling, cup of coffee on his knee, in a cluttered office. A perfect image for this distinguished, amiable and much admired University of Virginia professor who has published 15 novels, two plays, five critical books and (now) eight books of poetry.

A clue, too, that Garrett regards himself as a man of the mind - someone willing to allude to classical poets, to find inspiration in Shakespeare and Chaucer and to write about academic situations, often for comic effect.

George Garrett is a man who can't resist an over-the-top idea, and he happily applies them to any subject, from biblical to bawdy. He can liken a thunder storm to the play of the Fates - and manage to include a farting dog. A poem of love and desire might involve fairy tales, whoopie cushions or a World War I dogfight.

When he looks at nature (and he looks closely), he can see a black bear cub loose in Charlottesville as poets famous for their girth (James Dickey, Theodore Roethke). Moved by a blue jay in first spring, Garrett imagines the bird ``daring the sky to cast off its gray cloak,/ betting the trees will raise their hands/ again in green and bright surrender.''

He can use these verbal tools on himself and humanity collectively. Though he eschews confessional poetry, he can lament his indulgences and failure in family relationships. Such regret is continuous in Garrett's work. As he says in ``Rape of the Sabines,'' ``We may have been a race of dancers once,/ I think, before we tried to come to terms/ with what is truth and what is clearly lie.''

The new poem ``David (Again)'' conveys the dilemmas and despair of age that Garrett has learned. The graceful language of this poem (there is an earlier, less profound poem about David) attests to the maturing of Garrett's art. Humor and playfulness play a part. But just as likely, faith in God does - a faith that does not preclude a sense of play. The magnificent ending of ``Holy Week'' portrays God as the wisdom who returns mortal grievances to insignificance. ``The wide smile of God,'' Garrett speculates in ``Some Enormous Surprises,'' can reach persons human judgment might consider unworthy, like the young Adolf Hitler and the poet himself, drunk as he speculates.